


system of touch

by vvantastic



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Accidental Incest, Age Difference, Blowjobs, Drunk Sex, Happy Ending, M/M, Mentions of Possible Past Abuse, Odin is an asshole, Thor is Eighteen, Uncle/Nephew Incest, Younger Thor, but what's new?, nothing too heavy, uncle loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-25 16:31:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18578284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vvantastic/pseuds/vvantastic
Summary: Loki found that the best way to relieve the tension caused by reconnecting with his estranged brother after twenty years, was to hook up with the cute young guy at the bar.A perfect plan, until he's met with a very familiar face the following day.(In which, Loki accidentally hooks up with his nephew and it only gets worse from there.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spacehussy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacehussy/gifts).



> for my lovely, lovely gremlin wife! who constantly supports me, yells about uncle loki with me, and listened to me babble aimlessly about this fic for days. you're truly the best inspiration, and i hope you enjoy this. :') <3
> 
> feedback, as always, is welcome and appreciated! editing was done by me, so please excuse any mistakes!
> 
> the second chapter is just a short epilogue. 
> 
> title from "head over heels" by tears for fears.

Loki tossed his luggage on the bed, a garish and tacky plaid print. He stared, half-debating whether he should unpack at all.

Maybe he should just lug it back downstairs, out of the resort and into an Uber or Lyft. Whichever could get there quickest.

He still wasn’t sure why he agreed to this.

Frigga’s call was unexpected— it’d been what? Nearly twenty years, give or take.

She’d only been married to Odin a little over a month when Loki split town, chasing a wild teenage dream to travel the world. Their father’s life insurance had given them both a hefty chunk in their bank accounts.

Odin used his to settle down with his new family, and Loki did everything in his power to forget his old one.

He was sick, she had said.

A heart condition, or something. Loki didn’t ask for specifics— he was honestly surprised the bastard was still kicking. He’d almost expected her to say he’d passed. Then he would be flying back to the states to attend a funeral, only a couple of days, for a brother he hadn’t spoken to in decades.

And somehow that was worse than joining him on a week-long ski resort vacation with a bunch of strangers.

Odin, Frigga— himself included— were all different people now. He had to admit, there was a part of him curious about time's treatment on his brother’s temper. Frigga, at least, seemed as kind and clever as ever.

There was also the boy.

Thor, his nephew. Eighteen years old, probably a teenage brat who thought himself a man. Loki couldn’t help but picture Odin at that age, back when he still had both his eyes, wide and stocky with a face built to sneer.

At least the chances of Thor being interested in anything to do with him were slim to none.

Loki sighed. He wasn’t ready for this; he needed a drink. A strong one, a little more potent than whatever fruity wine cooler was no doubt stocked in the mini-fridge.

Luckily, he saw a bar in the lodge lobby, Odin and company weren’t expecting him until the following day, and he had a wallet full of cash.

He didn’t bother to change, but he did take his suit jacket and tie off, rolling up the sleeves to his elbow and combed his fingers through his wind-swept hair. He looked jet-lagged to hell, which he supposed was just part of his signature appearance at this point.

Good enough.

Hopefully, he thought as he took the lift to the lobby, he wouldn’t have any unexpected run-ins. It was late, and he was near sure they’d be sleeping by now. Ready to wake up early and reconnect with estranged family.

And then what? Hit some slopes? Loki snorted back a laugh.

This was a disaster.

 

 

 

 

The lodge bar was mostly empty.

A lone bartender wiped down the counters, looking both exhausted and irritable at sight of a new patron. An old man stat with a newspaper at a corner table, nursing what looked like a glass of scotch— he didn’t so much as look up when Loki passed him.

 _At the bar_ , however, was something much more interesting. Much more tailored to Loki’s tastes and interests. A pretty, blonde thing, looking barely old enough to be sipping on his cocktail.

Loki sat down next to him and offered a polite smile when the kid gave him a once-over, neon pink straw between his lips. Loki flagged down the bartender, ordered a whiskey neat and pretended he couldn’t feel a heavy gaze on him.

He got his whiskey in record time. It wasn’t the best stuff, had a bit of kick as it went down, but it did the job. Though, suddenly, drinking didn’t seem like the best way to relieve this pre-vacation jitter.

“Did anyone teach you it was rude to stare?” Loki asked, taking a sip. He kept his eyes forward but couldn’t help the twitch in his mouth when he heard the boy huff.

“No, I was taught to admire things I liked.” His voice sounded slurred already, not quite drunk, but it explained the pink to his cheeks.

“That’s for art, not people.”

“Oh? You know a lot about art?”

Loki raised his eyebrow, finally looking back over. The kid faced him fully, twisted in his seat, elbow propped on the bar with his face pillowed in his hand. He’d sucked down a bit of his daiquiri, a little umbrella dangling in the near-empty fishbowl. It smelled sweet, like him.

Was he flirting? Those droopy bedroom eyes said yes; but his technique was interesting, to say the least. He’d say it was unsuccessful if he weren’t so full of raw charm. It got a pass.

“I’m afraid not.”

“You look like you would,” he replied, reaching out to lazily stroke at Loki’s forearm. Every hair rose, the touch was electrifying. “You look sophisticated.”

Loki laughed at that. He didn’t pull away, kept his arm still for him to pet— encouraging. With his free hand, he knocked back his whiskey and nodded to the bartender to get him another.

“What’s your name?”

The kid’s eyes flitted back to the bartender, busy making Loki’s drink, but still within earshot. “The last name is Blake.”

“Got a first name?”

Blake gave a sly smile. “Nope.”

Ah, so that’s how he wanted to play. Fine.

Loki leaned back in his stool, and Blake seemed to follow, his hand never breaking contact. He was an eager little thing. Just what he needed. The prospect of sneaking away from this dysfunctional family function was too slim to risk not taking advantage now, while he could.

Not to take advantage in a literal sense, of course. Loki saw the way Blake’s eye stayed glued on him, the way he licked his lips when Loki took a drink.

“I’m—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Blake said, cutting him off. It really didn’t, Loki had no intention on giving him his real name, but this was interesting too. “There’s a supply closet in the hall.”

The intent wasn’t missed— by Loki’s brain  _or_  his dick.

He nodded, the whiskey burning his throat when he swallowed the rest of it down. This was going better than he could've planned; the universe was truly smiling on him.

If everything else during this trip went to shit, at least he could have this.

“Why don’t you show me?” Loki asked, casually, like he was a fucking supply closet connoisseur. He pulled his wallet out, laid out two twenties—more than enough, even for overpriced tourist-trap drinks.

Acting calm proved difficult, but he managed and hoped Blake was too distracted to notice the way his hands shook. If he did, he didn’t say anything, just moved to tug at Loki’s wrist, pulling him up from the stool and toward the exit.

A half-thought formed in his brain, he should suggest they go to his room—or Blake’s.

He was in his late thirties, that was too old to have these sorts of hook-ups. The sort where he ended up traded filthy orgasms in a tucked away corner. But the indecency was part of the thrill.

Loki didn’t have enough time anyway. He was already being tugged to a door, both looking down the hall for any onlookers, spotting none. Blake pulled him inside; he one last look to the empty hallway, and the door shut quietly.

Everything smelled of chemicals, musty air, and the syrupy sweet of Blake’s breath.

“Hi,” Blake said with a goofy smile. His back pressed against the door; his chest pressed against Loki’s. And it was there that Loki was filled with the absurd notion that he wanted a kiss.

He leaned down, meaning to catch lips, but was thwarted just short of it. Blake turned his head and Loki caught the corner of his mouth. But before he could protest, the kid was sinking to his knees. That view left no room for disappointment.

Blake marveled at him, running his hands up Loki’s thighs. His fingers stopped at his belt line, toying with the leather but not doing much more. He pressed his face into the front of his slacks to rub his cheek against Loki’s half-hard cock. The little tease.

“Fuck,” Loki ground out. He reached behind him, bracing himself on a shelf of questionable integrity. Blake’s breath was hot as he mouthed at the zipper, eyes looking up and innocent, despite the obscenity of the entire ordeal. If he pulled it down with his teeth, Loki was going to fucking lose it.

He reached down, planting a hand on the blonde head of hair between his legs. Blake’s moan was muffled when Loki pressed his face down farther, hips involuntarily bucking forward to grind, his natural instinct to seek out friction.

Blake pulled back, gasping, making brief eye contact before practically ripping Loki’s belt from its loops. He looked wild, completely debauched, and already Loki was harder than he’d been in ages. He stroked the back of his head, guiding him to the tent in his boxer-briefs; Blake mouthed at that next.

“You want it in your mouth?” Loki asked, breathless. He could tell the answer by the way Blake was all but drooling, but he needed some kind of verbal consent. He wasn’t a total monster; not yet, at least.

All he received was a whine and a nod. Good enough.

Loki hooked his thumb in the elastic band of his underwear, giving them a tug strong enough to free his cock. It bobbed out, red and leaking, smacking lightly against Blake’s mouth. In return, he opened up, licking the head with a dangerous twinkle in his eye.

He knew exactly what he was doing. Loki was going to wreck him, if Blake didn’t destroy him first.

“Well?” Loki took himself in hand, running the tip along Blake’s bottom lip, slapping it on the flat of his tongue when he presented it. “Do you?”

“Do you want me to beg?” he asked. It sounded genuinely curious. As much as Loki wanted to answer  _yes_ , he was about five seconds away from saying fuck it and jerking himself off all over that doe-eyed nightmare of a face.

“I think you know what I want.”

Blake smiled, a flirtatious thing. An affirmation that— yes, he did _._  He brought his hand up to curl around Loki’s own, rooting him away, and gave his cock a squeeze before closing his mouth around the head. He sucked once, twice, before he popped off and licked his lips.

“Is that it?”

Loki threaded his fingers through his hair, guiding his head back down, and let out a guttural moan when he felt that hot tongue once more. Blake had no qualms about showcasing his talent. He teased and licked, squeezed and stroked, all while moaning around his mouthful. Loki could do nothing but hold on for dear life, riding out the intensity of it in waves.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Loki growled, his hips thrusting to meet every wet slide. He was embarrassingly close, but this clearly wasn’t Blake’s first rodeo and it seemed he only aimed for one thing— to make Loki lose his mind. “Come on.”

If Blake stopped now, he would die. But that didn’t seem to be an issue, he pressed forward taking more of him down his throat. He gagged and choked, but stayed committed, and the hand Loki still had wound in his hair made sure of that.

It was watery blue eyes staring up at him that became his undoing.

He came, straight into Blake’s throat, shuddering through the aftershocks while a willing mouth took down every bit.

Blake pulled off, gasping for breath, and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He gave Loki’s cock one last squeeze, coaxing out another fat drop, which he then stealthy licked away with a quick dart of his tongue.

“How was that?”

Loki yanked him up. Blake opened his mouth as if to say something, but Loki shut him up with one firm press of his palm to the front of his pants. Hard, as he hoped. The would-be words only escaped in the form of needy moans while Loki kneaded and teased. Blake’s hands came around his biceps, squeezing tight as his legs spread wider for convenience.

He felt good, and the breathy sighs felt even better against his ear and neck. Loki wanted to take him apart. He had almost worked his hand down the front of Blake’s pants when the knock came— a hard tap on the door.

They both froze, staring at each other in silence and with bated breath.

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

“Fuck,” Loki hissed and quickly set to tucking his dick back in his pants.

Blake laughed, entirely too loud. Beyond the door was a muffled string of curses, another hard knock, and then the sound of retreating footsteps.

“I think we’ve been caught,” Blake said, raising an eyebrow.

Loki couldn’t help but smile, it was contagious. He hadn’t felt this wild in ages. “I think you might be right.”

“We should go.”

They should— _or_ , Loki could invite him back to his suite. He would love to finish this properly, with a bed and a bottle of lube. To spread him out and bury his head between thighs. They felt strong; he wondered what it would be like to have them wrap around his neck.

Loki stopped himself. If this was something Blake wanted, he would have asked.

No, all he wanted a quickie in a supply closet. He was young and beautiful, and Loki was, well—  _old_. He cleared his throat.

“We should,” Loki agreed. He refused to label the dullness in Blake’s eyes as a disappointment.

But, maybe…

He leaned down again in another attempt at a kiss. This time Blake put his hand between them, and Loki planted one square on his fingertips. He poked his tongue out, licked them for good measure and relished how Blake’s cheeks turned pink.

“No kiss?” Loki tried for joking, but his voice screamed hopeful.

“Next time,” Blake replied, followed by a cute little wink. Before Loki could say anything, he slipped from the closet and left him alone. Perplexed, and both satisfied and profoundly  _unsatisfied_.

Next time.

 

 

 

 

Loki woke up sore and stiff, but it was hard to tell if that came from something other than being thirty-seven. Time at least treated his face kindly; he still retained his sharp features and full-head of dark hair, but the same couldn’t be said for his joints.

It wasn’t until he was standing in the bathroom, brushing the taste of stale whiskey from his mouth that he remembered the kid. Blake. Last name, no first.

He really should have gotten a room number. Phone number, anything. Which set an alarm off in the back of his head; it’d been years since he last thought of a round of seconds with anyone.

Still, there wasn’t time to run all over the resort trying to find his mystery companion. Odin was expecting him.

A weird feeling flipped in his gut—that ominous sensation right before a free-fall. The start to something bad.

Odin didn’t give two shakes of an ass when Loki left. He didn’t call, didn’t write, never reached out on social media once that really became a thing years later. He just let him leave and that was that. Loki never found he fit in the family to begin with, he doubted this would be any different.

Something told him this was all Frigga’s doing. His brother really didn’t deserve her. Maybe he didn’t either. After all, he was just as guilty.

Loki dug out the most casual outfit he brought, a dark green cashmere sweater and dark fitted jeans, and changed at a pace so slow, one could only call it procrastination. He combed his hair back; tamed his curls with product; ran a razor over his smooth face; moisturized; debated cutting his cuticles; changed his pants and then changed them back.

Okay, perhaps he was procrastinating a bit.

He checked his phone one more time before he left his room. To his dismay, there was no text from Frigga apologizing for a delayed flight and cancellation. The only text between the two of them was a room number. He sighed and pocketed it.

Fine.

He could do this.

 

 

 

 

 

Loki stood in front of room 213, hand poised to knock. He saw the tremble in his arm, and he tried to will his nerves to calm. Almost twenty years—Odin probably wasn’t even the same person. He certainly wasn’t. Better to swallow all that apprehension down.

He gave a forceful three wraps against the door and waited.

What did Odin even look like now? He was well into his fifties. He tried to look him up on Facebook, but the only picture available was one from probably over ten years ago, taken on some family trip. The distance was so far, and the quality so grainy, all he could see were two vaguely-familiar figures with a little blonde kid between them.

The door opened, and Loki prepared himself for the most awkward reconnection he could imagine but—

“You,” he said instead. The person in front of him was decidedly not his brother.

Blake grinned, and leaned against the door frame, looking over his shoulder before turning his full-on flirty bedroom eyes to Loki.

“Me,” he said, with a smug curl of his lips.

“I must have the wrong room.” Loki didn’t pull his gaze away to check, he kept his eyes glued to the deep V-neck and the indecent amount of chest it exposed. Blake caught him looking, not that Loki tried to hide it.

“You sure you aren’t stalking me?” Blake asked.

Odin could wait. There was something much more important that deserved his undivided attention. And that something was finishing what he started in a supply closet. He wasn’t much for fate, but the coincidence of this was far too great to throw away. Loki didn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

He opened his mouth, ready to ask for an invitation inside when he was cut off— and not by Blake. No, this voice was much deeper, gravely and aged but unmistakably  _Odin_.

Loki didn’t know it was possible to literally feel the color drain from his face. In an instant, he was cold and clammy, and his stomach tried to escape his body.

“Loki,” Odin said again when Loki did nothing but stand frozen in the doorway. “It’s good to see you.” He at least sounded halfway sincere.

Odin came to stand behind Blake— please, god let that kid’s name be Blake— placing a hand on his shoulder and giving him a little shake.

It was then that Loki allowed himself to look. He prayed he wasn’t met with the same look of horror he knew he wore.

As fate would have it, Blake looked like he was ten seconds away from hurling his breakfast on his shoes.

“I see you’ve met my boy.” Odin gave a proud grin, seemingly unphased by the tense silence. “Thor,” he said, nudging him forward. “This is your Uncle Loki.”

Blake—no,  _Thor_ — lurched forward and awkwardly stuck out his hand. Loki turned his grimace into a pained smile and took it, shaking once before jerking away and nonchalantly wiping it on the side of his pant leg.

“Nice to meet you,” Loki said with surprising steadiness. He turned his attention to Odin, anything not to see that shell-shocked look on his  _nephew’s_ face. “Odin, it’s nice to see you too. You look well.”

It was only a little lie; he  _was_  a nice distraction for the horror show in his head. Odin, however, did not look well. He looked tired, gray, and wrinkled.

His brother stepped back, taking Thor along with him like a limp ragdoll. He gestured inside and Loki followed as if on auto-pilot.

“How many years has it been?”

“Nearly twenty,” Loki answered with his suddenly dry mouth. Fuck, he needed some water.

“Ah,” Odin said. “Time passes quickly.”

 _Does it_? Loki felt an annoyance he hadn’t had in ages surface under his skin. They hadn’t seen each other in nearly two decades, yet Odin acted like Loki took a six-month pleasure cruise and turned back up with a bad tan and tolerance for margaritas.

“I suppose,” Loki said instead.

At least this anger could distract him from the fact he had his dick in his nephew’s mouth less than twenty-four hours prior.

Odin brought them to the suite living area where Frigga immediately stood and clasped her hands together, a sincere warmth radiating from her. “Oh, Loki, you made it!”

Unlike Odin’s awkward attempt at acting as if no time had passed, Frigga wrapped him in a hug, squeezing around his neck and kissing his cheek. Her touch was soft, but Loki had no doubt she wouldn’t hesitate to kill him where he stood if she knew her son was on his knees for him.

“You met Thor?” she asked, beaming. Both of them were so proud.

“I have,” Loki answered, tried to smile.

Frigga stepped away and pulled Thor to her side, he went willingly, ducking his head to hide his red cheeks. She placed a well-manicured hand beneath his head and tilted it back up. Their eyes met properly for the first time, and Loki’s stomach flipped.

“Isn’t he handsome?” Frigga asked with pure, maternal affection. She leaned in, kissed his cheek, and Thor pulled away mumbling. He acted embarrassed, but Loki knew the truth.

“Yes,” Loki said because it would be rude not to. “Very.” He watched as Thor adverted his eyes to the carpet, the barest hint of a shy smile.

They all sat around the coffee table, Loki taking the loveseat to himself while Thor stayed a respectable distance away on the couch. His eyes stay wandering and never landed on Loki for too long.

Not that Loki noticed. He wasn’t staring.

“Please, catch us up,” Frigga said eagerly, she scooted toward the armrest and leaned in close. She had genuine enthusiasm, which Loki found rare.

Loki picked at the unraveling seam of the loveseat. Where did he start? He barely remembered leaving home. “I’ve been doing a lot of traveling,” he said, a bit lamely.

“No permanent residence?” There it was, Odin’s condescending tone. Loki hadn’t missed it.

“What about that girl, the one you left with?” Frigga cut in, quick to change the topic. Though, to his dismay, not a much better one. 

“Sigyn,” he sighed.

It’d been so long since he’s thought about her. His high-school girlfriend who dropped everything to leave town with him. He loved her, though never the way he was supposed to. He tried; he really did. But that feeling was never there.

“I heard you tied the knot. She’s okay with your nomadic lifestyle?” Odin asked.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Thor staring.

The truth was, she hadn’t been. And Loki had tried to fix that by marrying her. Though, interesting that Odin apparently kept tabs on him.

“I didn’t last long,” he said with a wry smile.

Frigga gave him a sympathetic smile and reached to pat his arm. Odin snorted back a laugh that probably wasn’t meant to be as humiliating as it was. And from across the room, Thor visibly sagged in relief.

“So, there’s no one?”

Loki had to physically restrain himself from looking at Thor. He gritted his teeth and smiled through it. The tension was building quickly, lathering itself thick in the air. He was an idiot to think he could rekindle whatever brotherly bond him and Odin might have had.

“Dad,” Thor snapped. “Leave him alone.”

Loki was so relieved he could kiss him— wait, no. He shouldn’t do that.

“What about you? How are you feeling?” Loki asked. Change the subject. Get it far, far away from himself.

And Thor; and kissing Thor; how he’d tried twice already to do just that.

“Fine,” Odin grumbled, and Frigga let out an exasperated sigh.

“Not fine. His doctor told him to take it easy, but he insisted we still take our vacation.”

“I’d already booked it. We come every year.”

Frigga smiled somewhat fondly. “He’s a creature of habit.”

Loki blinked and forced what he hoped was a smile.

This was all too much. The family banter, the vacation, the small-talk, the reminiscing. He needed to get out of there, but it was too late. At least it was only a week, and not even a full one. Then he could leave and forget this nightmare of a situation ever happened. He trusted Frigga would let him know when Odin finally croaked. He just hoped it wouldn’t be on a slope during the duration of his visit.

He could do this, Loki told himself for the hundredth time. It only got less and less convincing. 

 

 

 

 

Conversation waned and settled into a stagnant, awkward haze. It wasn’t long until Frigga suggested they do what they came for and “hit the slopes”. Loki hadn’t been skiing in ages, but he figured he wouldn’t have to talk if he was hurdling down a snow-covered hill.

If he crashed and broke his leg? Well, that wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen to him.

Frigga fussed with Odin’s zipper on his snowsuit, a puffy gray thing that made him look like a sad marshmallow. At least that was humorous enough to distract him from Thor awkwardly hovering and kicking at the snow with his boot. He twisted, and rocked back and forth, and sighed Finally, it was too much.

“Are you nervous?”

Thor startled. “No, we come here every year.”

“Well,” Loki cleared his throat. “Stop fidgeting.”

“I’m not.”

Loki looked pointedly at the rut in the snow from Thor’s boot, and Thor at least had the decency to look embarrassed. Or, maybe those red cheeks were from the cold. Loki couldn’t say.

They made their way to the ski rentals, and Loki begrudgingly handed over his card for overpriced equipment.

And if he thought they all looked ridiculous before, it was nothing compared to the sight of them waddling to the lift. At least the ride up the mountain would provide a nice respite.

Until, of course, Frigga turned around with a friendly smile. Loki knew what was coming.

“Thor, why don’t you ride with your Uncle Loki?”

There was the slightest fumble in Thor’s waddle. “Oh,” he audibly swallowed and looked over his shoulder to Loki. “Yeah, okay. If he doesn’t mind.”

Loki gave a pained smile. “Of course, not.” Which was to say, he really did.

He silently cursed the universe and watched Odin and Frigga wrestle themselves on the lift. Odin with a little less grace. He and Thor stood silently waiting for the next, eyes wandering anywhere but each other. This was the first time they’d been alone since the closet incident.

Fuck, Loki could still practically feel Thor’s mouth around him.

No,  _don’t_ think about that. The padded jumpsuit would cover an awkward boner, but he would prefer it didn’t have to.

Thankfully, Thor didn’t need help onto the lift. Loki was able to scoot as far to his side as possible and take a very serious interest in the trees. They were acting childish, he knew that. Then again, he had to remind himself, Thor was a child.

His stomach flipped— his  _eighteen-year-old_ nephew.

God, Loki should have known. Blake had too much bright-eyed youth. He was half-drunk off a daiquiri. Only a last name? Yeah, Loki  _should_  have seen it as an alias. Maybe, maybe he did. But he was much too caught off-guard by plump lips and a flirtatious laugh. Blake had been cute, sue him.

This was going to be the longest ride of his life, wasn’t it?

“It’s pretty chilly up here.” No shit, Loki.

Thor shrugged his shoulders.

“So,” Loki pressed on. “Are you looking into any colleges. You’re graduated, right?” God, please don’t be a high-schooler.

Nothing. Loki hid his groan with a cough. Okay.

“I—”

“I sucked your dick,” Thor blurted out.

Loki leaned over, shushing him and clamping a hand over his mouth to snuff whatever else was about to tumble out. They stared each other down, both breathing a little harder. Too close now, almost nose to nose with only a hand between them.

He felt Thor swallow and then mumble something that was too muffled to be audible.

Loki let him go and scooted back.

“Your voice will travel up here,” he explained. At least that made Thor’s eyes go a little wide, and he glanced up to the lift in front of them, the one that displayed his parent’s dangling feet.

“Are we going to talk about it?” he asked, quieter this time.

“It happened. Let’s forget it.”

He saw a flash of something across Thor’s face. That’s what he wanted, right? To forget it. It was most certainly what they  _should_  do.

Loki sighed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Thor sat silent, staring down at the ground below. They were closer now to the top, soon this would be over, and Loki could send himself sailing down the mountain. Or— maybe, he could jump right now and avoid the situation in its entirety.

“No,” Thor finally said.

Loki heard the real answer buried beneath. He  _did_  want to talk about it. But Loki accepted Thor’s answer as truth and neither of them said anything else.

 

 

 

 

Loki didn’t die, but it turned out that skiing wasn’t exactly like riding a bike. He did crash a few times. Thor made sure to speed past him and point.

After the third or fourth time, it became endearing.

Still, he was happy to be in his bed beneath heavy quilts. In the dark quiet, he replayed the day. It had quickly got— _well_ , better wasn’t really the word. More tolerable, maybe. At one point, Loki might have said he was having fun.

Dinner, on the other hand, dampened that.

Odin pried more, making back-handed statements; his resentment and bitterness coming to surface with each beer he drank. Frigga tried to keep a handle on the conversation, but even she was outweighed by his passive-aggressive commentary on Loki’s life choices. He had to admit, maybe they weren’t the best, and they certainly weren’t for everyone. But, to hear Odin hark on him only further cemented his reasonings for leaving in the first place.

Then, when Loki wouldn’t budge, he turned to Thor.

Loki wasn’t sure he could scrub the memory of that blank expression from his head anytime soon. Odin had gone on, and on, about Thor’s grades; his scholarships; his university offers; his plans. Thor never opened his mouth to comment on any of it. Loki doubted he had a say.

Frigga had smiled, a bit sadly, and brushed a strand of Thor’s blonde hair from his face. “Such a smart boy,” she commented.

At least Thor had smiled at that.

When he bid them goodnight, Odin patted him on the back; it only made his skin crawl. Frigga hugged him, which he accepted graciously. Thor had stood close to him, looked like he wanted a hug too, but thought better of it. So, Loki had reached out and clasped a hand on his shoulder.

Platonic, familiar— except that it left a tingle on his skin.

Now here he was, once again with thoughts of Thor.

Loki scrubbed his hands down his face and groaned. He was so screwed.

 

 

 

 

Breakfast went a lot smoother. Everyone was too tired to do anything but shove food in their mouth and make idle comments about whatever current event flashed on the morning news.

It was a strange sensation, to be in a room full of family, but feel like an utter stranger. Weirder yet when the one Loki felt most connected to was his young nephew. And not exactly because they're kindred spirits.

Thor bit off a piece of toast and stopped chewing when his eyes caught Loki staring. He looked away, cheeks red, and swallowed. Loki should really stop in case Frigga or, god forbid, Odin notice. But Thor was just so—magnetic? He was always drawn to him, which was most unfortunate. Troubling.

“I think your father and I better stay put today. We aren’t as young as we used to be,” Frigga told Thor with a little laugh. Then her gaze drifted to Loki, something calculating in her eyes. “I’m sure your Uncle Loki wouldn’t mind taking you up the mountain.”

Thor almost choked on his orange juice. Subtle as a brick, that kid.

“I’m sure Loki has things he would like to do,” Thor replied, carefully. He looked over with raised eyebrows and Loki gave a little nod. He’d play along for both their comfort. “It’s okay, really.”

“Nonsense.” Odin’s fork clanked down against his plate. It was the first coherent thing he’d said all morning. Loki couldn’t help but notice the flinch in Thor’s shoulders, or the way he ducked his head down.

Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to get Thor out of there.

“You’re right, it’s no trouble at all,” Loki said, all smiles. Frigga looked positively delighted, and Thor looked positively confused— it seemed he was trying to tell something through facial gestures alone.

Loki ignored him, but it was for his own good.

“You don’t—” Thor started.

“Thor, don’t argue.”

Thor’s mouth snapped shut, and he looked at Loki with sorry eyes. As if Loki hadn’t been the one to suggest it. His heart broke for the kid. He’d been there, once before. The least he could do was offer an escape.

“Come on,” Loki said, wiping his mouth on his napkin and dropping it on his plate. “We are wasting daylight.”

Not necessarily true, it was still morning, and they had a long day ahead of them. Still, Thor hopped up and left to change from his pajamas on command. Loki, already dressed, excused himself to wait by the door. He needed to think, he needed a plan of action.

For one, what the hell were they going to do?

“Loki.”

He snapped from his thoughts and turned to Frigga. She stood picking her hand, nervous in a way he’d never seem her. Loki’s stomach turned.

Fuck, did she know? Could she tell by—what? By the way that he looked at Thor?

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” she said, and Loki’s heart resumed its beating. “Odin is, well, you know. Thor has taken a liking to you.”

Loki’s face heated, and he smiled politely as one should at such an innocent compliment. “He’s a good kid, I’m happy to get to know him.”

Way to go, Loki. Make it seem like you’re taking him out on a date. What’s next? Telling her he’ll have her son home by eight? Promises to be a gentleman? That was way out of the picture by now. He’d already treated Thor very, very ungentlemanly.

Frigga smiled, tight. “Thank you,” she said again.

Loki didn’t know how to respond, so he said nothing. 

 

 

 

 

“So, do you actually want to ski?”

Loki turned, fingers twitching where he buried them in his jacket pocket. Thor wasn’t dressed for the slopes, and neither was he. Tired, that’s how he looked—too tired for someone his age.

“No,” Loki answered honestly. “Do you?”

They fell in step with each other, walking aimlessly through the resort courtyard. Thor shook his head, his gaze downcast. Maybe tired wasn’t the right assessment. Physically tired, at least.

“You just have to learn to ignore him.”

Thor snorted back a laugh. “Yeah? That’s easier to do when you don’t live with him.”

Loki spotted a bench and walked them to it, dusting off the snow before he sat. Thor looked hesitant, but followed, sitting an appropriate distance away.

“Why do you think I left?” Loki gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile when Thor looked his way. It wasn’t returned, but that was fine.

Thor seemed to turn Loki’s words over in his mind. He wrung his gloved fingers between his lap, face stern and serious as he sat in quiet contemplation. Loki wondered how often Thor dreamed of doing the same thing.

Leaving, such an easy escape.

“He never talked about you,” Thor finally said, quiet. “I didn’t even know you existed until Mom said you were coming to visit.”

Loki had spent years callousing himself from memories of a distant, unloving brother. Thor’s admission shouldn’t bother him, yet he still felt a sting in his chest. Why would Odin talk about him? They were strangers then, and they are strangers now.

To think, if Odin had kept at least one picture, maybe none of this would have happened.

“We were never close,” Loki replied. It didn’t really explain anything, but it’s all he had.

“Mom said he raised you.”

Loki laughed at that, a cruel sneer of a sound. What a ridiculous notion, that anything Odin did for him could be considered raising. Is that what he told people? That he raised his poor, delinquent little brother— who turned eighteen and vanished without a trace?

He sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. He didn’t owe an explanation to anyone, least of all Odin’s fucking kid. But Thor, he didn’t seem malicious. Curious, yes. They had that in common.

“I was born years after Odin, in our dad’s second marriage. I don’t know, I guess that’s where the resentment started.” Loki looked out of the corner of his eye, long enough to see Thor staring at him in rapt attention. He hoped he knew that this story was a privilege; that he’d never told anyone before. “When Father died, there was nowhere else for me to go. I was put in Odin’s care. He was an adult by then, but not ready to raise a kid. Especially me.”

“He’s not ready now.”

“But at least you have Frigga,” Loki countered. “I hated him, and the feeling was mutual. He had control over my inheritance until I turned eighteen, and then…well.”

“You left,” Thor breathed out. Amazed.

There wasn’t anything amazing about it, but he dared not tell him that. It felt good to have someone look up to him, even for something so small and irresponsible.

“I left.”

“Are you going to leave again?”

Loki blinked, looked over to see Thor biting at his bottom lip; chapped, raw from the cold and blunt teeth. The urge to reach out and soothe it was too strong, so he shoved his hands back into his jacket pocket.

“As soon as the week is up,” he said.

The light in Thor’s eyes dimmed. “Oh.”

“There isn’t a place for me here,” Loki explained.

It wasn’t an easy thing to understand, he knew that. But— this was the life he chose, and the one that he loved. Bouncing from hotel to hotel, working on freelance editorial pieces for extra cash so that the number in his savings could stay the same. He’d become a lot more financially responsible in his later years, but even he knew he would have to give it up sometime. Loki just wasn’t ready yet.

“What about you? Your dad seemed pretty confident you were going to get into the college of your choosing.”

If Loki thought the light in his eyes dimmed before, the expression that followed was absolutely cardboard. A switch flipped, and Thor was gone.

“Law school,” he said, toneless. “I don’t know where yet.”

“I heard something about Ivy League. That’s impressive.”

Thor gave a dismissive shrug. “Yeah.”

“Thor?” Thor hummed, and Loki did something brave and nudged his foot with the toe of his boot. “What do you want to do?”

“Law school.”

“You can’t bullshit a bullshitter,” Loki said wryly. “Is that really what you want?”

Thor tucked his bottom lip in his teeth, eyebrows knitted together in growing frustration. “No,” he finally said, infinitely lighter. A laugh bubbled out of him like this was the first time he admitted it to anyone but himself. “Fuck, no. I don’t.”

Loki knocked his shoulder with his. “There you go. Did it feel good to say it?”

Thor nodded. “I could scream it.”

 “What’s stopping you?” Loki asked. They were practically alone, except for some stray vacationers going to and from their destination, and a couple of birds. “Let it out.”

A toothy grin broke out on his face—full of teeth and raw, unadulterated joy. It was probably, single-handedly, the most beautiful thing Loki had ever seen.

He stood up, cupping his gloved hands around his mouth, took a deep breath and belted out: “Fuck law school!”

A jogger turned toward them as she passed by— but Thor didn’t care, and Loki certainly didn’t either. He laughed and laughed, and it was contagious. Loki didn’t even realize he was laughing too, until Thor plopped back down beside him, pressed against his side, and it all died off.

Thor watched him, a strange little crook in his lips. He was warm against him, despite the cold. Loki could feel his heartbeat in his ears, and he knew he was staring because he hadn’t looked away. To be honest, he wasn’t even sure he’d blinked.

Sirens went off in the back on his head. This was the danger zone. He should move away, now. But Thor’s cheeks were so pink, the tip of his nose and ears a deep red. Loki threw his arms around him instead and pulled him to his side. A friendly gesture.

Right.

“I wish I could do what you did.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Your life seems so exciting,” Thor said, earnestly. He nuzzled closer, burying himself under Loki’s arm. Loki held him tighter, to protect against the stinging bite of the cold. That was all.

“Sometimes,” he said with a smile. “Other times it's lonely.”

“You don’t really seem like the type to get lonely.”

Something clenched tight in Loki’s chest.

At least he did was he set out to do, and that was to build a perfectly constructed façade to live behind. The one where he’s an eccentric bachelor content in his nomadic lifestyle. Better off alone.

Loki had almost convinced himself of it. Until—

He tilted his head ever so slightly so that he might sneak a peek at the blonde head of hair tucked under his arm. Loki could see the slope of his nose, the faint smatter of freckles dulled by the lack of sun.

Thor must have felt eyes on him. He looked up beneath the fan of lashes.

Something clenched tight in Loki’s chest,  _again_.

“You’re right,” he lied.

 

 

 

 

Things changed after that. Thor looked at him differently.

Well, maybe not different, but more obvious. Loki could practically see the hearts in his eyes. It mirrored those same looks he got his first night there. Back when Thor wasn’t Thor at all.

 _Next time_ , Thor had told him.

And Loki, he hated how much it excited him. Hated how much he wanted a next time, and how much it disappointed him that it wouldn’t come to pass.

He had returned back to his room that night and laid in bed, remembering and missing the warmth of Thor beside him.

No matter how many times the logical part of his brain reminded him, he couldn’t see Thor as his nephew. There wasn’t a trace of Odin in him. Thor was entirely his own. Perfect, and  _entirely_  too young.

So, he did the most sensible thing he could think of:

He ignored Thor when he tried to pull him away from the rest of the family. He acted disinterested when he spoke. He did everything in his power to stop them from being alone together.

It wasn’t easy. Thor seemed just as determined to get Loki’s attention as Loki was to avoid it.

Soon the starry-eyed stares ceased. Loki’s heart stopped throbbing and aching when he saw that expression of hurt across Thor’s face. Though his heart broke, it was for the best.

At least, he told himself that, over and over. 

 

 

 

 

 

Loki found solace, peace, and solitude, in the sauna.

Sweat it out, brilliant idea; get all these thoughts out of his head. Thoughts of—  _no_ , he wasn’t going to do that. Not here, where it was too dangerous.

At least he was alone.

They’d begun to notice his behavior. Frigga had pulled him to the side and asked if he was okay. Loki had to make up some excuse on the spot, something about some bad seafood pasta. She bought it, he thought. But he saw her watching him, and her eyes always traveled back to Odin. It was better that way, for her to think it was due to his presence.

And not the fact he had it bad for her son.

His  _nephew_ , he reminded himself.

Loki knocked his head back against the wood-paneled wall, the room filling with sweltering heat and steam. Maybe he’d just pass out— that’s a solution, right? Loki scooted down on the bench, attempting to get comfortable, letting his legs fall open. He could do this, he could relax.

A deep breath, and then another. The steam sank into his tense muscles. Maybe it would work.

The door opened, and Loki’s eyes remained closed, but one definitely twitched.

Seriously?

He turned his head to greet whatever sorry soul decided to interrupt his relaxation session, only to let out a groan.

_Seriously?_

Thor, looking like the sorriest soul of them all, clutched the little white towel around his waist tightly.

The universe was surely punishing Loki for not only letting Thor suck his dick, but also wanting desperately for him to do it again. Among other things,  _many_  things, some worse than others.

Like wanting to hold him; fall asleep next to him; wake up with his head on his chest.

“I didn’t know you were here,” Thor said. Loki wasn’t entirely sure he believed him. “Sorry.”

This would be the part where Thor turned around and left. Just apologize and get the hell out, leaving Loki to stew and suffer in agony alone. He didn’t though. He sat down an uncomfortably large distance away. A poor display of casual.

Fine. Loki made sure his own indecently tiny towel covered everything and made to stand. Why the hell were they so small? One wrong move and Thor would see all his bits.

 _Nothing he hasn’t seen before_ , a horrible voice chimed.

“Are you leaving?”

Loki blanched. Was this kid serious?

“Yes,” he answered, though it should have been obvious. He’d been avoiding him the past couple of days. Why would he suddenly be okay with being alone together, naked and sweating?

“It doesn’t have to be weird,” Thor muttered.

“But it is.” Loki swallowed, looked away from that pathetic pout on his nephew’s face. He should leave,  _now_. But he didn’t; he lingered awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot.

“It wouldn’t have been weird before,” Thor tried. “You’re  _making_  it weird.”

Loki scoffed out something resembling a laugh. Then, he made a decision.

Probably a stupid one.

Scratch that,  _definitely_ a stupid one.

Loki sat back down. He glanced over just in time to see Thor look pleased with himself— the little brat. At the very least, Loki was thankful it wasn’t cold. There wouldn’t be that temptation to pull Thor closer.

He settled back against the bench, crossing his arms and closing his eyes. This wasn’t going to ruin his vacation. Not that it was going particularly splendid. Or, it was, until it was going  _too_ well.

He just needed to survive.

“You’re ignoring me,” Thor said stubbornly.

Sure. His plan originally consisted of avoiding Thor, but now it appeared to also involve sitting in a sauna with him in awkward silence. A silence that was more annoying than the situation itself. The trick was figuring out how to approach this. It would be better to make Thor hate him, right?

He hadn’t quite convinced himself, but he might as well give it a go.

Loki opened an eye to find himself being watched.

“Do you make a habit of that?” Loki asked. “Picking up grown men in bars with fake IDs?”

Thor’s face turned red. Anger, good, Loki could work with that. It was a lot easier than him laughing and smiling, and melting all the ice in a ten-foot radiance like he was the sun. Including all the ice built up around Loki’s carefully guarded heart.

“I don’t know,” Thor said with a sweetness that only sounded bitter. “Do you make it a habit of picking up teenage boys?”

Ouch. Low blow.

Loki tried to stay stoic, not to let his irritation seep through. Or his heartache.

“Not a  _habit_ , no.” That got him a reaction; he saw Thor’s jaw tick. “But, to be fair, I thought you were at least twenty-one.”

Thor laughed, held his arms out to showcase that lithe, muscled body already red and beading with sweat. Lewd, obscene. If Loki didn’t look away, he might die of combustion. It was a risk he had to take seeing that he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

He didn’t burst into flames, but he did feel a degree or two hotter. He blamed it on the sauna.

“Do I look twenty-one to you?” Thor asked him.

Loki swallowed hard and continued to look his fill. He knew he shouldn’t, but Thor offered. Didn’t he?

And Thor noticed. Fuck, he  _definitely_ noticed. His eyes grew wide, and he covered himself. An insecurity surfacing that Loki found quite unnecessary. Where did that confident Thor from the bar go? Or the one shouting obscenities in a public square?

No, this was the same kid who shrunk in on himself when his father’s voice got a little too high. Now, it was Loki causing that reaction, and it made the bottom fall out of his stomach.

“I hope you at least enjoyed yourself,” he whispered.

Loki almost didn’t hear him over the rush of his own blood to his head.

“You don’t want me to answer that,” he said, low and quiet before he could think to stop himself.

An unreadable expression crossed Thor’s face. Hurt, maybe. Disappointment?

“That bad, huh?”

He didn’t think it possible for his body to grow even  _hotter_ , but it did.

And Loki found himself at a crossroad.

Either, lie and wreck the kid while possibly damaging his self-esteem. Or, do something far worse and tell the truth. It wasn’t like he had to go into detail about how he still saw Thor’s pretty lips wrapped around his cock when he closed his eyes at night. And he definitely could leave out those pesky  _feelings_.

Loki steeled himself, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

“No,” he whispered.

He couldn’t stomach the look of understanding that passed over Thor’s face at his confession. Loki could see the cogs turning, putting together the pieces of a jigsaw that should never be constructed.

“Oh,” he said finally, sounding way too pleased. He grinned, shark-like. “I see.”

Oh, Loki thought.

 _Oh no_.

 

 

 

 

If Loki’s resolve was a wall of fortified brick, Thor was the wrecking ball. Demolition his only goal.

They all spent another day on the slopes. Thor, of course, riding with Loki up the lift. This time, there was no uncomfortable buzz of silence or tension in the air. Thor scooted right up next to him, hand on his own leg but finger’s reaching to brush against Loki’s thigh. Even through several layers of clothing, he could feel it burn hot.

“I’m cold,” Thor complained.

Loki turned to take note of his snowsuit, his goggles perched on his head, the scarf wrapped around his neck. He doubted that was true at all.

“We’ll go back inside once we ride down.”

Thor hummed his approval but nestled himself into Loki’s side and a sneaky hand found its way into his jacket. Embarrassing as it was, Loki jumped, startled at the touch. Thor rested his hand on his stomach. Above his clothes, but Loki’s cock didn’t seem to know the difference.

“Thor,” Loki warned.

“You’re warm.” His fingers squeezed, and Loki’s mouth went dry.

It seemed Blake was back. Confident, flirty Blake— who was an alias for Thor. A dangerous, horrible, brat of an alter-ego. All it took was one little slip of the tongue, and Loki was fighting a losing battle.

“Thor.” He hoped he sounded stern, commanding; not weak and desperate.

Thor ignored him and found the hem of his shirt, fingers creeping inside. This time, when Loki jerked away, it was because of frigid fingertips against his warm flesh.

Loki’s breath left him in a rush. He was going to come absolutely untethered. It took a great deal of restraint from making an indecent noise.

He grabbed Thor’s wrist before it could go any further.

“I’m  _cold_ ,” he whined. “Warm me up.”

Loki had to close his eyes and count backward from five. Thor returned his hand to his own lap, but his body stayed pressed against his. At least that was safer. Which was to say, it wasn’t safe at all, but it also wasn’t actively giving Loki an inappropriate boner.

Now, if only he could stop thinking about taking him up on his request.

“I’ll buy you a jacket.”

Thor huffed, clearly annoyed. It was only a little satisfying.

That triumph didn’t last long. Because soon after, Thor tugged on his scarf, forcing him to meet his gaze. His mouth curled into a devilish little smile; his eyes hooded as he blinked slowly up at him. Beckoning and flirtatious.

“Buy me dinner instead.”

Loki pressed his lips into a flat line, careful not to give away how his heart beat frantically.

“We are having dinner with your parents tonight.”

Thor rolled his eyes, groaned, and let go of the scarf to scoot back to his side. “Fine.”

Somehow, Loki didn’t feel like he won. 

 

 

 

 

Thor only grew more insufferable. But the worst part was, Loki only grew more accepting. He even came to expect it and felt a twinge of disappointment when Thor would spend hours a day with his eyes glued to his phone.

Not counting, of course, the time he nudged Loki in the side and asked for his opinion on a particular shirtless selfie. His face wasn’t even in the frame, just the lower half of his jaw, biting his lip, the focus solely on his bare chest.

“Should I post it?” Thor had asked, casually. “I’ve been working out.”

“If you want.” Loki shrugged, had tried not to let Thor see his eyes glued to the screen.

Thor hummed, finger hovering over the post button. Last second, he pulled away and closed the app. “I can just send it to you.”

Loki’s face had burned hot, and he didn’t dignify it with a response. Still, Loki had really wanted that picture, for reasons. Memories. After all, the chances of him seeing the kid after the week was up were pretty slim.

He had a plane ticket with his name on it, and a departure date that crept closer and closer.

And yet, that didn’t fill Loki with relief as it did a couple of days prior.

When Thor wasn’t being a flirty nightmare, he was actually very good at being charming. Manners, and a good upbringing, no doubt taught to him by Frigga. He was courteous and polite. Intelligent, and ambitious.

Unfortunately, one of those ambitions seemed to be wearing Loki down. His moral-compass was already cracked, but Thor would surely be driving force to splinter it completely.

Loki stayed so occupied with thwarting Thor’s advances and attempting to suppress his own growing desire to give in, that he barely had any time to dwell on Odin’s souring mood. It only reared its ugly head on occasion. Mostly when he spoke to Loki, and Loki remained spaced out in his own head.

“Are you listening?”

He hummed.

“Odin was just asking where you planned to go next,” Frigga translated. Her eyes shifted to her husband; her lips pursed. Loki had a feeling her wording was a lot more polite than his.

He had planned to stay in New York for a week or two, see if he could pick up some freelance work. He had a friend there, Verity, who let him slum it on her couch from time to time. Then, probably head out of the states again.

Somewhere new.

“I don’t know,” Loki said instead.

He didn’t know why. He looked over to Thor, animatedly talking to the girl at the food truck and his stomach tied itself into knots.

Well, maybe he did.

“You’re almost forty, Loki,” Odin grumbled. “You should consider settling down. Finding a good woman.” He reached over and patted Frigga’s hand and the smile she gave in return didn’t quite reach her eyes.

A sudden sadness struck Loki, and he was reminded of Sigyn. The way she had looked when she thought he wasn’t looking. Trapped. So, he let her go.

Odin would never be so generous. But maybe, one day, when Thor left, she’d find that strength herself. Because Loki had only been with them for five days, but he knew that was the only thing anchoring her to his brother.

“Maybe,” Loki replied, noncommitted. His thoughts found Thor again. “We’ll see.”

 

 

 

 

That night thankfully didn’t have an earlier conversation carry-over.

Dinner went by peacefully enough. Odin didn’t have much to say, he kept focused on the television. Loki chatted with Frigga, and occasionally Thor would chime in.

He seemed distant though; something heavy was weighing on his mind. Every now and then, Loki caught him looking, but it wasn’t with the same intensity as before. Intense, yes, but different. Thor didn’t try to knock feet with him or lean too close.

Maybe he’d finally given up.

Good. Loki swallowed down his disappointment with a twirl of pasta.

Odin retired soon after he finished his plate. He gave a gruff “goodnight” and that was about it, dropping his plate into the kitchenette sink and closing the door to the separate bedroom. Unsurprisingly, the room felt lighter.

“Now,” Frigga said with an edge of conspiracy, opening the wine chiller. She pulled out two bottles of red and gave Loki a wink. “Do you think we should let Thor have a glass?”

Her tone suggested she was going to regardless, but Loki couldn’t pass up the opportunity to finally get retaliation for all the teasing he’d endured. He looked to Thor, who eyed him suspiciously, and pretended to ponder.

“I think he’s been  _very_ good,” Loki drawled. He took the glass Frigga offered him, sipping it slowly. It was sweet but didn’t compare to the delight he felt at watching Thor’s ears turn pink.

Frigga, none the wiser, agreed and handed him a glass of his own. Thor took it and gulped it too quickly. All the finesse of a boy who drinks to get drunk.

“Slowly,” Loki instructed. Thor stopped and scowled at him, licking away the drops of wine from his lips. It wasn’t done in a seductive manner, purely functionary. That didn’t make Loki’s body respond any less.

He crossed his legs, and ignored his own advice, taking a larger sip than necessary.

One glass for Thor turned into two, turned into three. And when Frigga went to bed, giving her son a kiss on the forehead, swaying just a little, Loki let it turn into four.

It was a bad idea, all around, but he finished off his glass anyway.

Somewhere, in the midst of it, they migrated to the entertainment space. Loki knew the couch pulled-out in a bed, that that’s where Thor slept, and he was cosmically grateful to see it was, indeed, still a couch.

He sat down. The cushions were hard, but at that moment, they could have been clouds. He watched with one eye open as Thor mentally debated on whether to sit by Loki or somewhere else. Finally, he chose the floor, sitting cross-legged in the middle of it.

He grinned up at Loki, a sloppy thing.

“You sure a lightweight for someone with a fake ID,” Loki teased.

Thor stuck out his tongue, wine red. “It’s new.”

Ah. Interesting.

“Where did you even get it?” It was hard to imagine Odin’s golden boy associating with anyone that could get their hands on one. Then again, there was more to him than he seemed. Full of surprises.

“A friend of mine,” he said carefully. “I met her at this bar I go to sometimes.”

Loki quirked an eyebrow. “Bar?”

“Yeah,” Thor said quickly. “You only have to be eighteen to get in, but you can’t drink.” He leaned back on his hands and let his head fall to the side, giving Loki a sly smile that did something to his gut. “People still bought me shots though.”

“What kind of bar? It sounds like an unruly establishment,” Loki asked though he knew the answer.

Fuck, suddenly it was too hot. It wasn’t like him to come unraveled after a few glasses of wine. He pulled at the collar of his dress shirt. If he undid the top button, that would surely give Thor the wrong impression. He left it, even though he felt strangled.

“You know. The kind with men,” Thor said a bit sheepishly. “Older ones.”

Loki’s heart raced. He really shouldn’t be doing this— but what did that matter? He’d been telling himself that all damn week. It only barely stopped him.

“You like older men?”

Thor’s cheeks reddened. “Yeah.”

Loki undid his top button. Fuck it. Thor’s eyes were drawn to the sliver of skin it exposed. This time, when he licked his lips, it was with a purpose.

“Why?”

“They’re discreet.” There was a deeper confession there, but Thor shrugged. “I know what men like you want.”

Loki opened his mouth and snapped it shut. He was going to argue, was going to say he wasn’t like those men. But he knew the truth. The fact that, not long ago, he was picking up pretty, young things in bars for nameless fucks. There was no use in telling Thor he was different. So, instead, he played the game.

“And what do  _men like me_  want?”

Thor flustered for a moment. “That’s not what I meant. I just,” Thor swallowed and looked away. “I mean handsome, older men. They just want a one-night stand. Nothing else. I play that part and give them what they want.”

Something about that didn’t settle right with Loki. He frowned, leaned forward to place his elbows at his knees. Thor was so far away, he wished he were closer so that he might wipe that furrow from his brow.

“What about what you want?”

Thor blinked up at him, processing that question. Maybe he’d never been asked that before, and Loki’s heart broke at the thought. Fuck whatever faceless suit in a gay bar that made him feel like he wasn’t worthy of being asked something so basic.

Thor didn’t seem too put off by it. He grinned, full of teeth, heavy-lidded eyes fixated on Loki. “A lot of things.”

Loki leaned back again, a safer distance away. He didn’t like that tone. Or, he  _did_  like it, which was much worse.

“Do you want to know something?” Thor asked conversationally.

No, Loki thought. “Sure.”

“No matter what I do, I can’t see you as my uncle.” Thor squinted his eyes, turned his head this way and that. Appraising him for all he was worth, which probably wasn’t much. “I tried, really hard.”

Loki debated telling Thor he felt the same. That he tried and failed, to think of him as his brother’s son. If Loki had been there for his birth, or his toddler years, maybe that would have helped. If their first meeting wasn’t Thor with his mouth around his cock.

“Our first,” Loki searched for the word, “ _encounter_  is what makes it difficult.”

Thor closed his eyes, hummed and smiled like he was reliving a fond memory.

“Stop that.”

“I don’t think you want me to stop,” Thor accused. He rolled from his position, on hands and knees, and crawled toward Loki. His legs fell open on their own accord, accommodating, and leaving just enough space for Thor to slot himself between them. “Do you?”

“Thor,” Loki warned.

He couldn’t take it, having him between his legs, head pillowed on his knee while a hand rested on his other. Fuck, just the sight of him had him hardening at a rate he hadn’t experienced since his early twenties. Thor took notice of the beginnings of that tent in his lap, red-rimmed eyes zoning in with a crooked smile.

“I like it,” he whispered. His hand moved from his kneecap, slowly sliding up his thigh. It stopped about mid-way and Loki gritted his teeth.

“What?”

“When you say my name.”

Thor’s fingers resumed their movement, trailing higher and higher until they skirted along the button of Loki’s trousers. Loki fisted the cushions to keep from tangling them in that head of blonde hair, and he bit his lip to stop himself from giving over to what Thor wanted.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for. You’re just a kid.”

Thor pulled his hand away and Loki sagged in relief. This close, he could smell the wine on his breath when Thor huffed out an annoyed little sound.

“I’m eighteen.”

Loki gave a stifled laugh. “A kid,” he repeated.

“Just like you were a kid when you decided to leave home.”

The words were a slap across Loki’s face, and he had half the mind to shove him away. That’d be the sensible thing, at least. But Thor’s hand was still hovering over his lap, and that defiant frown didn’t bode well.

Clever boy, too clever for his own good.

“That was different.”

“How?” Thor asked, admonished.

Were they really going to have this conversation with Thor sandwiched between his thighs? On top of all that—  _while he was still hard?_

“You know why,” Loki hissed. God, he really didn’t want to have to spell it out. This was wrong on so many levels. Just, a multitude of levels. Thor knew that too. As established already— he was smart.

Thor sat back on his knees, still bracketed by Loki’s legs. It didn’t make the scene any less lewd. But Loki couldn’t focus on that. He saw the tears prickling in the corner of his eyes, and the way his chest heaved beneath his white sleep shirt. Then, because he couldn’t help himself, his eyes dropped even lower to find him hard in his pajama pants.

Fuck.

“If you don’t want me that’s fine,” Thor said. “Just tell me, and I’ll leave you alone. I promise.” He sounded anxious, worried and young. “I know—I know that I shouldn’t want this. But all I see is that handsome guy from the bar.”

Loki closed his eyes so that he didn’t have to see the tear that slipped down Thor’s cheek.

“And then,” Thor continued, laughing somewhat. “Then you had to go and be so much more than that.”

There it was, the final blow to his carefully constructed walls. They crumbled, like dust, blew away before he could ever remember why they were there.

Loki took a deep breath and opened his eyes to find Thor staring at the ground. He stood, and Thor’s head jerked up to watch him; he looked frightened, and about ten seconds away from begging him not to go.

Loki held out his hand, and Thor stared like he’d never seen fingers before.

“Come on.”

“What?”

Thor hesitantly took his hand at last, and Loki hauled him up.

“We can’t do this here, what if one of your parents wake up?” Loki asked, and Thor’s eyes widen. He glanced over his shoulder to the room where Frigga and Odin were sleeping peacefully unaware. Loki watched his throat bob as he swallowed and nodded in understanding.

“Okay,” he said, a little shaky. “Lead the way.”

“You have to be quiet.”

Thor nodded again.

Loki took him by the shoulders, holding him still and straight. He lowered his gaze until he had Thor’s attention, and fixed him with a serious stare. “And, you have to be sure.”

Thor stared at his lips, swaying a little on his feet. His gaze seemed far-off, distant. Loki had to remember the glasses of wine and weigh how much of this was _Thor_  and how much was the Merlot.

“I’m sure,” he said. “I want it.”

Loki’s grip on his shoulders tightened. If he didn’t stop, he wouldn’t make it out of the room. He dropped his hands and silently walked to the door, Thor trailing behind him like a lost dog. There was a thrill in it, a giddiness that someone definitely shouldn’t have at the prospect of getting their nephew alone.

Yet, there it was. Ever present.

 

 

 

 

The walk to his room was agony. At some point, Thor grabbed ahold of his shirt, holding tightly and untucking it in the process. There were several near misses, where Loki’s lust almost overtook him, and he was tempted to press Thor up against a wall and get a hand down his pants.

He restrained himself somehow, and then he was finally at his door, fumbling with the keycard while finely tuned to every shaky breath of Thor beside him.

They both tumbled into the cold, dark.

Loki’s room wasn’t anything like the resort suite Thor had. Small, and much more like your typical hotel. It had one king bed, that Loki stood froze to stare at. Oh, they shouldn’t be doing this.

“Hey.” He felt a tug at his shirt, and Loki spun around.

“Thor, listen—”

Thor crashed into him, hands finding Loki’s face and bringing him down, closer to his level. The next thing Loki registered was warm and soft lips working against his own. He closed his eyes, gave himself over to the sweet kiss that he’d been previously been denied.

It was for the best; Loki saw that now. If Thor had kissed him that first night, he might have never let him go.

Loki regained himself, taking back over control, licking into Thor and relishing when he gasps against his mouth. He kissed, and kissed, alternating between tender licks and promising bites. Loki couldn’t help but notice, with some sadness, that Thor seemed a lot less experienced at this than he was at sucking cock.

Finally, Thor pulled back, just a bit, and Loki let him. His lips were shining and swollen where Loki had nipped at them. With no preamble, he sunk to his knees.

Loki’s hand shot out to brace himself on the wall. Instantly, Thor began working at the button, tugging at his zipper and trying desperately to get Loki’s cock out. And he was just about to let him before he placed a hand on Thor’s wrist.

“Stop,” Loki breathed. “I think I owe you something.”

“What are you talking about?” Thor asked, skeptical. He allowed himself to be pulled back up.

Loki kissed him again, just because he could. Then, turned him around and walked them both toward the bed. Thor fell back against it, looking a mixture of confused and incredibly, impossibly turned-on.

“Lay back.”

Thor wasted no time, he scooted back until he hit the headboard. Loki smiled at him, but there wasn’t a thing friendly about it. He began unbuttoning his shirt, slowly, and Thor watched with bated breath as each one opened.

“Take your shirt off,” Loki instructed, and he slipped his own from his shoulders. Thor once again obeyed on command.

Oh, that could be fun. Another time.

There won’t be  _another_  time, a voice in the back of his mind hissed. He didn’t care.

Thor started for his pants, grabbing at the waistband and lifting his hips.

“Stop,” Loki said, and he did, even though he looked confused at such a strange request. Was that not why he was in his bed? Thor would come to understand soon enough; Loki would make sure of that.

The bed dipped when Loki settled on it, crawling to hover over him. Beneath him, Thor shook in anticipation.

He started his kisses at Thor’s hairline, working his way to his nose, and to his jaw, and the corner of his mouth. For each one, Loki was rewarded with a shuddering gasp, until finally, he swallowed that too.

He kissed him soundly, only stopping when hands came to grab at his neck and arms, and Thor began to rock up into him. Loki pulled back, despite the whine of protest, and continued his journey, mapping every inch of Thor’s neck and chest with his lips.

Loki placed a firm kiss to his sternum. “I heard you’ve been working out.”

Thor panted breathlessly above him, mouth twisting in a funny smile. “Shut up.”

“I can tell” Loki hummed appreciatively, and he licked the firm muscle he found there. He thought back to when he first noticed. “You drove me crazy in the sauna.”

“Yeah?” Thor asked. God, the kid sounded wrecked already. “I didn’t know.”

Loki wasn’t sure if that was sarcasm or not, but something told him Thor really didn’t understand how much he’d been struggling with his want. And if he didn’t, if he  _truly_  didn’t— Loki would show him.

He lowered his head and took a pink, pert nipple between his teeth and Thor cried out. Loki released his bite, laving at it next with his tongue until Thor’s chest was heaving and his breathing shallowed. So the other didn’t suffer from neglect, Loki raised a hand to roll it between finger and thumb.

“ _Loki_ ,” Thor grunted. “Fuck.”

He lifted up, traded his fingers for his mouth, and his mouth for his fingers. Thor arched into him, a hand snapping to the back of his head to keep him latched. The long, hard, line of a cock rubbed against Loki’s hip as Thor bucked up into him, whining at the smallest bit of contact. Loki moved his hand down, planted it firmly against his waist and held him still to the bed.

“Eager,” he commented, giving his nipple one last open-mouth kiss. “We have all night.”

“All night?” Thor gasped.

Loki dragged his mouth down his stomach, stopping to bite at the soft flesh of his hips. Plump, and cushioned with baby fat he hadn’t quite lost at the gym.

“All night,” Loki confirmed. He leaned up and hooked his fingers in the band of Thor’s sleep pants. A quick tug was all it took to jerk them down his legs, his cock bobbing out and slapping wet against his stomach. He was already leaking, already red, and already so hard. “Or, however long you can last.”

“Don’t worry about me, old man— _ahhh_.”

Loki took him in his mouth, tip to root, in one go. He sucked hard, and pulled off slowly, keeping the head of Thor’s cock in his mouth to tease with his tongue. It was only a little satisfying, of course, to watch as Thor’s eyes screwed shut and his head slammed back against the pillow.

“Fuck,” Thor panted. “Fuck, can you—?”

Loki knew what he needed. He sunk back down, opening his throat and taking all that Thor had to offer. It’d been a while since he’d done this, but thankfully it was a reflex that easily snapped back, especially with the encouraging noises he earned. He didn’t waste time with fancy tricks, only took him deep and moaned around his mouthful every time it hit the back of his throat.

Above him, Thor came unraveled.

He tugged at his hair, pulled at the sheets until they were a mess. Loki could see, barely, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead, his blonde hair sticking to face. The sight was intoxicating and only made him work harder.

“Loki,” Thor panted. “Loki, please.”

Loki had to grind his own cock down on the bed. Hearing his name moaned like that was too much, and he feared he may embarrass himself. Coming in his pants like a teenager, that wasn’t what he came here to do.

“I’m close, fuck.  _Ahhh_ , you need to—” Thor tugged at his hair, but Loki buried himself deep; prepared himself for it.

With a few shallow thrusts, Thor came down his throat, and Loki was proud that he only choked back a little. Thor kept his hand twisted in his hair, tight and edging painful. But it was good, it was so good. Loki couldn’t stand it anymore. The moment he felt Thor’s body soften and the tension leave, he pulled off and sat back. His hand couldn’t find his buckle fast enough, and he wrestled his fly open, pulling his cock from its confines.

There wasn’t much in the way of lubrication, but that didn’t matter. The slick of his own pre-come did just fine, and the sight of Thor’s eyes while they bore into him, lust-blown and sated, was enough.

He came over Thor’s softening cock, his stomach, and the bruise that was beginning to blossom where he bit him earlier.

When Loki met his eyes again, Thor looked…disappointed?

“I thought maybe,” Thor nodded, eyes fixated on his somewhere between Loki’s legs.

Oh. Had he wanted to suck him off again? It wasn’t like the thought didn’t cross his mind, but he’d been so on edge, instant gratification was the only thing he sought. And, he had to admit, the sight of Thor sprawled languid on his bed, marked up by him, was giving him joy.

“Maybe, you were gonna…” Thor continued, trailing off, and Loki paused.

He looked up at Loki, glassy-eyed and smiling. Nervous, yet somehow still brazen and confident. He parted his legs as much as his pulled-down pajamas would allow.

“Do you want to fuck me?” Thor whispered.

Loki’s mind struggled to work around those words. He swallowed, dry. His eyes devoured Thor—his body that, at eighteen, he was still growing into; the sweat on his skin; the redness in his cheeks; and the faint bruises left from Loki’s previous ministrations.

Perhaps ten years ago, Loki could have taken him up on his offer. But his cock only twitched at the thought.

Thor mistook his silence for something else; Loki watched him try to backpedal, face turning redder than it already was. “You don’t, that—"

Loki shushed his babbling, leaning back over to kiss him. There was a muffled whine, a quiet moan, and Thor’s hands were all over him again, holding on for purchase with blunt nails biting into his skin.

The truth was, Loki never cared much for kissing. Never really saw the appeal; only doing it if it got his partners going. But kissing Thor felt like he was giving away a piece of himself. It felt good. Intimate in a way he’d never allowed himself to be.

Loki pulled back, set his forehead against Thor’s. “Beautiful boy,” he sighed.

Thor bristled at the praise, averting his eyes and biting his lip to cover the beginnings of a shy smile. “Is that a yes?” he asked, hopeful.

“Insatiable too,” Loki added with a playful nip to his jaw. He felt Thor hardening against him. Ah, to be eighteen again. “What am I going to do with you?”

Loki brought him off his with hand, until Thor was panting and chanting his name into the bend of his arm. Afterward, he found a towel to clean them both off, stripped himself of the rest of his clothes, and Thor too.

Loki didn’t ask for him to stay, but it wasn’t really necessary, he was already nodding off beneath the thin sheets, smiling when Loki crawled in after him. He pulled Thor close to his chest, kissing the dip of his shoulder. Something constricted in his heart, despite the fact this was what he wanted.

That was just it though, wasn’t it? He wanted something he couldn’t have. Thor in his arms was only temporary and could only ever be temporary.

“Goodnight,” he said, but Thor was already sleeping.

 

 

 

 

Loki woke to Thor rubbing up against him. All in all, not the worst way to meet the crack of dawn. He turned into it, and let Thor kiss him with sleepy morning-breath.

“I wish we had more than two days,” Thor said, working his leg over Loki’s hip. “I wish we had done this from the beginning.”

“One day,” he corrected.

“Yeah, one day.” Thor pushed against him, forcing Loki to roll onto his back. He rolled with him, straddling his hips and diving back down to kiss at Loki’s throat.

For a moment, Loki didn’t allow himself to process Thor’s misunderstanding. He only wanted to focus on the solid weight grinding down on his lap, rubbing his cock awake. There was nothing Loki wanted more than to give himself over and fuck him into the mattress or let Thor ride him until last-minute skiing wasn’t an option.

Loki groaned, half from Thor’s rocking hips, and half out of frustration. Damn this new sense of morality.

“Thor, wait.”

Thor whined, sitting back to palm at the bulge in his underwear. “Please, come on. This isn’t fair.”

“I just wanted you to know that we only have  _one_  day,” Loki said, running his hands up Thor’s soft thighs. He tilted his hips up to rut against Thor’s ass, hissing at the friction. “I leave tomorrow morning. Let’s make the best of it.”

Thor froze, and Loki feared to meet his eyes. He had to, eventually, and found him staring down with confusion, disappointment, and a sense of sadness that broke Loki’s heart.

“You aren’t staying the whole time? Why not.”

“I have somewhere I need to be,” Loki lied.

“You don’t want to be here?”

“I do, but—” Loki laughed, and that was the wrong thing to do. “You didn’t expect me to go home with you. Did you?”

In an instant, Loki watched Thor’s fantasies flash across his eyes. He knew what they were because he had them too. He fell asleep dwelling on them, a scenario where he might get to keep whatever this was. But that wasn’t his life. Loki didn’t get the things he wanted most.

He didn’t get to keep Thor, and Thor shouldn’t want to keep him.

Thor rolled off him, leaving Loki cold and empty. He pulled the sheet over him, twisting himself up in it to hide his body when Loki reached for him.

“I should get back to my room before my parents wake up.”

“Okay.”

“ _Okay_ ,” Thor bitterly parroted, then let out an exasperated laugh. “I am so stupid.”

Blame never sat well with Loki. When a finger was pointed at him, it always twisted itself into something else. Anger, usually. Loki never was good at keeping it away.

“What did you think was going to happen, Thor?”

Thor stayed silent, staring pensively at the wall.

“Thor.”

“Leave me alone.”

Loki stood up from the bed, gathering Thor’s clothes in his hands. Thor didn’t watch him directly, but Loki saw his eyes follow from his peripherals. His jawed ticked, but he didn’t protest when his clothes dropped in his lap.

This wasn’t fair. Loki knew that. But whatever was happening, all he knew was that it hurt. And so, he had to restack the bricks for his wall.

“I thought you were different.”

Loki laughed, loud and echoing— completely, and utterly devoid of humor. “I’m your uncle, and I—”

He snapped his mouth shut. God, he really fucked up. He kept asking Thor what he thought was going to happen, but the question really was: What did  _he_  think was going to happen?

Thor was good, and he was poison. He was already being faced with the damage he’d done.

Because, for all the touches and all the aches, and lust, and want— Loki had done something far worse. There was more there, things deeper than desire.

Thor stared at him with wide, open eyes, watery with unshed tears.

“Thor,” Loki said softly. He came to stand in front of him, tracing his thumb along the edge of his eye where a stray tear threatened to fall. This wasn’t about him leaving just a day earlier, this was about something else.

Loki knew; he heart ached for it too.

“Stop it,” Thor whispered, voice shaky and hoarse. He batted Loki’s hand away and stood up, pulling on his clothes haphazardly. “Stop treating me like a child.”

“You  _are_  a child.”

He knew better than to say it.

Loki sighed. Maybe this would be better for them both. Anger wasn’t quite as bad as heartbreak, in his opinion. He was willing to take that burden on himself.

Thor stood at the door, fuming. “Dad was right,” he started. Loki closed his eyes, prepared for the blow. “You  _are_  an asshole.”

The door slammed, and Loki was alone. Only when he sure Thor was a safe distance away did he allow himself to bury his face in his hands and scream into his palms.

 

 

 

 

As it turned out, Loki was a lot better at composing himself than Thor was.

He turned up to the slopes mostly presentable. He moisturized, combed his hair, the whole nine yards. Odin had stayed in bed, not feeling too well, not that Loki was surprised or upset. He was also neither of those things when Thor announced he wanted to ride up by himself.

Loki exchanged pleasantries and good-natured conversation with Frigga on their ride up together. He did well for it, only glancing up to Thor’s dangling feet once or twice.

That wasn’t to say his mind didn’t stray back to him, and their fight which was just a poor strawman for something deeper.

“Thor tells me you’re leaving early,” Frigga said later, sipping on her hot cocoa. They stood outside the little souvenir shop, waiting for Thor to make it back down the mountain. Apparently, today, he was  _very_  interested in skiing.

“Yeah, six in the morning. I’m sorry to cut it short.”

Frigga hummed, “I think he was a bit upset, but he’ll get over it.”

“It’s only a day early.” He thought he sounded casual, but she gave him a funny look and took another sip from her cup.

“Thor was always a lonely boy, always wanted a brother. Or maybe a more attentive father,” Frigga said sadly. “I did my best to make up for that but, as he got older, he became more withdrawn. He has plenty of friends, but I never see him open up.”

Loki couldn’t help but picture Thor, on his knees for strange older men. Seeking approval and acceptance. Playing a character so that he might get a piece of affection in return.

Loki’s heart tightened. He hated that, and he hated, even more, he was one of those strange, older men.

 _But you’re not_ , a voice said,  _you’re more_.

Thor had said so himself.

All Thor had wanted was a promise that he’d come back, that he meant something too. And Loki couldn’t even give him that.

“Loki?”

The sound of Frigga’s concerned voice shook him from his thoughts. “Sorry,” he said, taking a sip of his tea. It was too hot, but he swallowed it anyway. “I was just thinking.”

“Well, do you know what  _I_  was thinking?”

Loki shook his head, eyes immediately finding Thor in the crowd of people walking toward them. He took his goggles off, shaking off the snow, and waved. It took everything in Loki not to scoop him up, kiss him, apologize for it all.

“I think,” Frigga continued, eyes never leaving her son. “Thor reminds me a lot of a certain boy I knew many years ago.”

Loki knew she meant him, but he couldn’t agree. Thor was nothing like him, never had been; he was far better.

 

 

 

 

Thor spent most of the day in a glum state, feigning a headache when Frigga pestered him about it. Odin mostly grunted about being grateful and reprimanded him for being glued to his phone. Loki, however, tried to give him his space while simultaneously trying to catch his attention.

One minute, that’s all he needed.

But it seemed Thor was as stubborn as any Borson and did a great job of ignoring all Loki’s attempts. So, when Frigga frowned and shook the half-empty ice bucket, Loki jumped on the opportunity.

“I can refill that.” He took it from her hands and pretended to only then notice Thor camped up on the couch with the hood of his sweatshirt pulled over his head. “Thor, do you want to come with me?”

“No thanks.”

Behind him, Odin cleared his throat and both Thor and Loki froze. Frigga was quick to step in. Bless her, a true angel. “Sweetheart, why don’t you go with your Uncle Loki?”

“And put your phone away.”

Loki flinched at Odin’s tone; he knew it all too well. He was about one defiant eye-roll away from snapping.

Thankfully, Thor knew better than he did at that age. He stuffed his phone into his pocket and ripped the hood off his head. If looks could kill, they’d all soon be attending Loki’s funeral service.

The walk to the ice machine was long and awkward. Thor immediately pulled his phone back out the second the door shut, and his thumb flicked across the screen at an alarming speed. Loki tried to catch a glimpse at whatever he was so focused on but saw nothing but the blur of images in his Instagram feed.

They stopped at the machine, and Loki dutifully filled the bucket, trying to work out what to say. Probably just start with the basics and the truth.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Thor didn’t look up from his phone, but Loki saw his thumb falter. “It’s fine.”

“No,” Loki sighed. “It’s not. Hey—Listen to me.”

Thor groaned and shoved his phone in his jacket pocket, leaning against the wall.

At that moment, Loki was struck with just how young Thor really was. Maybe he should just drop it.

“Why are you doing this?” Thor asked.

“I don’t know.” Stupid, but it was the truth. He didn’t have any fucking clue what he was doing anymore. Least of all when it came to Thor. “I’m just sorry.”

Thor stared at him, long and hard. After a moment while Loki held his breath, he smiled. So beautiful that Loki might kiss him—if such a thing was still welcome.

“I’m sorry too. You were right, I was acting childish. I don’t have any right to be upset about you leaving. You’ve had a life out there, this whole time. I can’t ask you to put it on hold.”

Loki reached out and tucked a strand of hair, messy from the hood of his jacket, behind his ear. He let his fingers linger, brushing his knuckles down his cheek. Thor nuzzled into the touch, but Loki still pulled away.

“You’ll be going off to college soon,” he said quietly. “You’ll meet someone and forget all about me.”

Loki’s tone was light, but the words were like a knife in his gut. That’s what needed to happen though. Thor needed to forget and move on, and so did he.

This was a terrible, fucked up situation. Maybe the one that broke him above all others.

“The ice is gonna melt,” Thor commented, pointing at the bucket. “We should go back.”

Loki stepped away, not realizing he’d practically pinned him to the wall. Thor just watched him with an unreadable expression. Not quite sad, and not quite happy.

“Yeah,” Loki sighed. “Let’s go.”

 

 

 

 

Loki stared at his luggage, all packed up and neat on his bed. It was strange to think that just six days ago he didn’t want to unpack it at all. And now…

He moved it all to the floor, against the wall. Ready to go. He carefully hung his suit for his morning’s flight and stored it in the alcove that acted as a closet.

Readying himself for bed was a sordid affair. He brushed his teeth, brushed his hair, stared in the mirror at all the places he no longer looked young. Loki leaned in and prodded at the beginnings of crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes.

And he couldn’t help when his mind wandered to Thor— golden perfection, unflawed, and bright with youth. What had he been thinking? By the time Thor had to fuss about wrinkles, Loki would closer to Odin’s age.

Just, hopefully with less of a potbelly or scraggly beard, and both his eyes.

Loki almost didn’t hear the knock at the door. He paused, hovering over the sink, and listened. It came again.

Wrapped in his robe, Loki cautiously walked to the door. Beyond the peephole, he watched a distorted Thor shift from foot to foot. Fuck. His heart raced as he placed a hand on the door handle, debating on just pretending to sleep.

Thor knocked again.

Okay, he could do this. He would sit Thor down, and explain things more thoroughly. Thor was owed that, at least.

Loki got as far as opening the door.

He wasn’t sure who grabbed who first, maybe they both crashed together. Thor’s mouth was on him; his hands pulled Loki’s face down, tilted so that he could better kiss. Loki didn’t fight it, didn’t even try.

He tugged Thor inside, shutting the door and pressing him against it. Loki pulled back long enough to get his shirt over his head, and Thor stopped long enough to rip Loki’s robe from his shoulders.

Thor leaned back, marveling at Loki, chest heaving and lips shining where they’d been licked. “You’re so fucking hot.”

The compliment struck Loki off-guard; tilting him from his axis ever-so-slightly. He recovered quick enough, pressing Thor back against the door and running teeth along his neck. Thor whined and bucked to grind his hips against him. Truly a desperate, wanton thing.

“Come on, honey, what do you need?” Loki’s fingers crept along the waistband of his pants. It was easy to slide his hand beyond the elastic, getting Thor’s cock in hand to feel him already so hard.

“Oh god,” Thor moaned, letting his head slam back when Loki squeezed. “Bed.”

Loki smiled against his throat. He could do that.

All of the reasons, all of those carefully crafted excuses vanished the moment Thor crawled, naked, on the mattress. Gold skin on display with a backdrop of that horrid plaid print. Loki leaned over him, planted a kiss to the inside of his thigh.

“Is a bed all you needed?” Loki asked against him, taking the soft flesh between his teeth just hard enough that he cried out.

Thor whimpered above him, shook his head. “No, please.”

“Please what?”

Thor held out his hand, unfurling his fingers where they clenched tightly together. Loki eyed the little bottle of lube in his palm, his lips curling into a smile. Such a smart boy, so well prepared. He plucked it from his hand, and Thor sighed in relief.

“What do you want me to do with this?” Loki popped the cap open, squirting some into his palm.

Thor squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, though it sounded more irritated than anything. “Will you just—”

Thor’s words died in his throat, dissolving into a moan when Loki took hold of his cock with a slicked hand. A shame, really. He would have liked to hear where that was going. He worked him like that for a moment, until Thor was glassy-eyed gasping.

Loki’s eyes caught sight of the alarm clock, the time flashing red and ugly. He only had a couple of hours left—he needed to leave by four to get to the airport on time, get through security, find his terminal. He wanted more time, needed it. The thought of leaving just hollowed a bigger and bigger pit into his stomach.

Damn it, maybe— No. That wouldn’t work. Verity was expecting him. She’d understand though, right? If he decided…

“Hey,” Thor whispered. He held out his hand, fingers barely reaching Loki’s face, he caressed his cheek the best he could, and Loki turned to kiss his fingertips. “Come back to me.”

Loki shook himself from his thoughts. “I’m here.”

“So am I.”

Thor’s hand found Loki’s wrist, where it had apparently stalled on his cock. He pushed it lower, and lower until Loki got the picture and pressed the pad of his finger against him. Thor let out a soft moan, nodding his head. Permission.

He worked the first finger in with minor difficulty, pumping in and out until the second slipped in with little resistance. It was exhilarating; to fuck Thor with his fingers, watching the way his face gave away when Loki found the right spot.

He couldn’t look away. He’d sear this image into his head for lonelier days.

“I’m ready,” Thor hissed, pushing back down against him. “Please,  _ahhh_.”

“Tell me what you need,” Loki said, even as he pulled out his fingers to slick himself up.

“You know.”

Loki lined up, rubbing the head of his cock against him. So open, wet, and ready for him. It took well-practiced restraint for him not to sink right in. “Tell me.”

 _Please_ , he thought. Because he was about five seconds from losing what little control he had left. There wasn’t any going back from this. They’d already crossed line after line, but this was the last one.

“Fuck,” Thor choked on the word, reaching for Loki’s arms and pulling him forward until he hovered over his body. He leaned up and placed a sloppy kiss to the corner of Loki’s mouth, panting against it in anticipation. “Fuck me.”

Who was Loki to deny such a gracious request?

He pushed in slow, watching Thor’s face for any sign of discomfort. He realized then that he never actually asked if Thor had been with anyone else. There were the hook-ups, he knew that. But did they ever had the pleasure of sinking into his body?

Loki wasn’t sure which answer he preferred.

He slid home and Thor wrapped his trembling arms around his neck, breathing ragged in Loki’s ear. Oh, he felt good. Better than that.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” Thor swallowed. “Just move.”

Loki kissed him, pulled out slowly, rocking back into him and catching the moan that followed with his lips. The next thrust was a little bolder, his resolve slipping. He slammed back into him, and Thor cried out gripping tight to Loki’s back.

He found a rhythm and angle. One that had tears welling in the corners of Thor’s eyes; his legs hooked over Loki’s shoulders and hands planted against the headboard. Soon he was attempting to push down to meet every thrust with a lewd smack of skin.

Loki found himself overwhelmed by the way he felt around him, so tight and eager to take everything he had to give. Fascinated by the little crease in Thor’s brow where he clenched his teeth and watched their bodies meet. Red cheeks, and blonde hair dampened with sweat.

“So perfect,” Loki ground out. “So perfect for me.”

Thor sobbed at that, reaching down between them to grab ahold of his cock where it leaked over his stomach, leaving smears of slick precome as it bounced in time with Loki’s thrusts. “I need—”

“Come for me,” Loki hissed, eyes fixed on Thor stroking himself through choked sobs. “Come on, that’s it.”

Thor spilled all over his knuckles and belly, and Loki fucked him through it until he was soft. Sticky hands came to hold tight to his arms. It was too much—to look at Thor spent and thoroughly debauched. Having him hold onto him for dear life, like he never wanted Loki to leave.

Like he always wanted Loki buried in him.

He leaned forward, bending Thor nearly in half. His speed picked up while his rhythm faltered. Fuck, he wasn’t going to last. He needed to—

Thor’s hand moved the best it could to grasp at Loki’s hip, trying to hold him in place.

It was all the permission he needed to fill him up.

A series of moans fell out of Thor’s open mouth as Loki pumped his way through the last of his orgasm. He collapsed on top of him, still rooted inside, and kissed at Thor’s sweat-drenched hairline.

Absently, Loki thought that he could stay there forever and be perfectly content.

“Did’ya die on me, old man?” Thor asked after a while. He shoved lightly at Loki’s shoulder, and he rolled off and onto his back, wincing slightly when slipped out from Thor’s body.

“Nearly,” Loki teased. “I knew you’d be the death of me.”

“Oh yeah?” Thor rolled to his side, facing Loki, laying his head on his chest.

Loki hummed, running his fingers through Thor’s hair. They laid like that, in the quiet and dark, for what seemed like hours; both still messy from their tumble in the sheets. He had to add showering to his list of things to do before he left. The clock was ticking, and soon this would be ripped away from him.

He held Thor a little tighter. Kissed the crown of his head.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Thor mumbled. Loki wondered if he could hear his heartbeat and the way it hammered away at his chest.

“I’ll miss you too.” No point in lying.

“Do you think you’ll ever come back?”

Loki paused his fingers stroking lightly at Thor’s head. No point in starting now.

“Yeah, I think so.”

Thor instantly rolled over, beaming up at him with eyes so bright Loki could see the blue of them, even in the shadows. “You mean that?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“When?”

Loki smiled. The angle was awkward, but he managed to lean down enough to kiss him.

Ah, yes. It still felt perfect. He couldn’t give that up so easily.

“I’m not sure. I have some things lined up.”

“But you promise?”

Thor looked so hopeful, so trusting. In his day, Loki had made many promises with no intention of keeping them. For the first time in his life, he felt guilty for all those passing hook-ups in various scattered cities. The ones where he promised to call or keep in touch.

There wasn’t any time like the present to break bad habits.

“I promise.”

He let Thor lay on top of him to kiss, and only when things got too heated, did Loki gently roll him off. The clock was edging closer and closer to four. But he found it hard to tear himself away.

Which was, well, troublesome.

“You need to get back to your bed,” Loki whispered against Thor’s temple. “You don’t have an excuse this time. They know I’m leaving in the morning.”

Admittedly, Loki had to commend him on his quick thinking when Frigga and Odin woke up to find both of them gone. Thor had apparently said they wanted to watch movies but were afraid they’d wake them up.

Any excuse cooked up for this would be suspicious.

And if they had any hope of continuing…

“Up,” Loki said when Thor didn’t budge. He gave a light smack to his bare thigh, and that sprung him into action.

Loki fetched him a damp washcloth from the bathroom and used it to gently wipe the dried mess from Thor’s stomach. Every now and then stealing glances at the clock. No time to shower. He’d have to hope his cologne would cover the post-sex stench from his body. At least his suit was nice.

“Well,” Thor said, once fully dressed and as freshened up as he could be.

Loki held his arms out where he sat on the edge of his bed, redressed in his robe. Thor stepped into them easily, and Loki squeezed him tight. He pretended he didn’t hear the sniffles above, where Thor buried his head into his hair.

Loki tilted his head, and Thor kissed him on reflex. Soft and bittersweet.

He walked Thor to the door, kissed him again for good measure. Thor clung to him in the hallway, and it was the hardest thing Loki ever had to do when he pried himself from his arms. He bent down, kissed the corner of his eye. His lips came back salty.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?”

When did  _never_  turn to  _maybe_ , turn to  _later_ , turn to  _soon_?

“Yeah, okay.”

“Tell your mom bye for me.”

“Sure. And Dad?”

Loki shrugged. “Tell him whatever you want.”

“I don’t think he’d like that,” Thor said with a sly smile.

“Probably not.”

They stood there, Loki half in the frame and Thor lingering in the hallway for a moment too long. He needed to shut the door and try to get at least thirty minutes in before he had to call a ride to take him to the airport.

“Goodbye.”

“Bye,” Thor responded quietly, followed by a sad excuse for a wave.

Thor turned before Loki could shut the door. It was a good thing too, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could look at that sad, puppy-dog face.

The door clicked shut, and he placed his head against it to breath deeply.

Everything felt too real and not real at all.

Loki looked to the bed, sheets and blankets tangled where their bodies had moved. He looked to the suit hanging in the alcove. To the alarm clock flashing a quarter ‘til four. It’d be going off soon.

Loki walked over to it, picked it up, and reset the alarm to closer to nine. That should be enough time to alert the front desk he’d be extending his stay.

Next, he crawled into bed and sent a text to Verity, claiming his flight would be delayed.

Was he really doing this? He was insane, clearly. Thor was  _eighteen_  years old. He was more than half his age. And, on top of all that, the one detail that he seemed to keep forgetting—Thor was his  _nephew._ His bastard of a half-brother’s son.

This was crazy. Mad, even for him.

It wasn’t too late. He could still make his flight easily.

He fell asleep with his face buried in the pillow that still smelled like Thor.

 

 

 

 

Loki found them at the complimentary breakfast downstairs. Nerves fluttered in his chest, though he wasn’t sure why. No one would know why he was still here. Except maybe Thor, but he counted on that.

He slid into the empty seat at their table. He spotted Thor at the buffet, piling his plate with heat-lamp pancakes.

“Good morning,” he announced conversationally.

Frigga nearly choked on her orange juice. “Loki!”

“You’re still here,” Odin interrupted. “I thought you had prior engagements in—where was it?”

“New York.”

“Did you miss your flight?” Frigga asked, reaching across the table to place and hand on the back of his arm. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Loki assured her. Though, his bank account would beg to differ. Last minute flights weren’t cheap. “I’m glad to stay another day.”

Loki’s eyes trailed steadily up to find Thor stock-still. He looked as though the faintest breeze would knock him over. Quickly, Thor regained himself, clearing his throat and sitting down across the table.

“Well, at any rate, we’re happy to have you.”

Thor swallowed a bite of his pancake. “Yeah,” he said. Dazed and staring dreamily in Loki’s direction.

Odin was content to focus on his breakfast, not offering much in way of conversation aside from the occasional grunt of agreement. Thor stayed silent mostly, but his leg bounced under the table. Loki was sure to smile at him as often as he could, and as often as appropriate.

“So,” Frigga finally said. “What’s after New York?”

“I think you mentioned one of your friends earlier this week, a realtor.” Frigga nodded, not quite understanding. “Do you think you could give me her contact information?”

Odin barked out a laugh, looking pleased for once.

“Of course,” she said with a sparkle in her eye. “Though she mostly does local listings, around San Francisco.”

Loki didn’t chance a glance across the table at Thor, afraid he’d give it all away.

“I know. I’m in the market for a house.”

“To buy?” Odin asked. He sounded suspicious, not that he blamed him.

Loki shrugged. “My savings are getting low. I should do it while I’m able.”

The noise Odin made was closer to a sneer, but Loki elected to ignore it.

“I’ll message her right away,” Frigga said in delight. She turned to Thor, and so did Loki’s eyes. He found him staring, wide-eyed with disbelief. “Thor, isn’t that good news?”

Thor, dumbstruck, nodded his head.

“What changed your mind so suddenly?”

Ah, still the skepticism. But would Odin be Odin without it? Was he really willing to put up being permanently rooted in the same city as the past he ran from? He knew the answer.

Loki leaned his chin into his elbow, looked out the window to keep himself from looking at Thor.

“Something about the west coast,” he sighed. “I guess I’ve always liked the sun.”


	2. epilogue

Adjusting to a permanent residence was difficult, but Loki managed. It helped that he had Thor there to ease the transition.

Five years passed quickly.

Thor never did leave for college. After he turned down all his offers, things got rocky between him and Odin. Enough that even Frigga couldn't smooth it over.

It was fortunate he had an uncle so close and equipped with a spare bedroom.

A bedroom that, of course, acted as a staged decoy. Thor rarely spent the night anywhere but Loki’s bed. Not to say they didn’t spend a great deal of time elsewhere—couches; counters; tables; and on one daring occasion, the back yard.

On most days, Loki was content.

But there was always that insistent need, always that voice in the back of his head. He felt caged and trapped in documents and deeds, a nine-to-five, and a house that he hated more and more every day. Every happy memory made was just a photograph on a prison wall. 

Loki turned in bed, wrapping his arms around Thor. He’d suffer through a lot to keep this.

“Hey,” Thor said, voice cracked and sleepy. He turned in Loki’s hold, reaching up to smooth down the strands of dark hair on the cusp of turning gray. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Loki said softly. “Go back to sleep.”

He never did master hiding when he was upset, and Thor had always been a clever boy.

“I was thinking…”

“That’s always dangerous,” Loki said with a wry smile. Thor playfully smacked his chest and Loki tugged him closer, rendering his actions useless.

“What if we traveled. We both have vacation time saved up, we could take a month.”

Loki’s heart raced at the thought. That itch inside him begged to be scratched—but, they couldn’t. The house had drained him of his savings and then some. They had a healthy portion put back, but that was for emergencies, or the off-chance Thor decided he wanted to give college a try.

“You know we can’t,” Loki sighed into the crown of his head. Tried not to sound as disappointed as he was.

“Okay,” Thor said slowly. Cautiously. “Let’s sell the house.”

Loki pulled away from him, and Thor sat up, letting the sheets fall around him. God, he was still so beautiful. Older, and bigger than Loki now. But that wasn’t the point. He was getting distracted. Loki ripped his gaze from Thor’s bare chest and set his mouth into a straight line.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

Loki opened his mouth, hesitated. Could he be?

 _Could they_?

Thor smiled, pushed Loki back so that he was on top of him. They met each other in a kiss, not quite heated, but no less passionate.

“Where would we go?” Loki asked when Thor pulled away to rest his forehead against his.

“I don’t know.”

“Somewhere new,” he decided.


End file.
